


Shiny Metal Lure

by Paresse



Category: Original Work
Genre: Body Worship, Cyberpunk, Edging, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Praise Kink, Robot Cult, Robot Kink, Robot Sex, Technological Kink, Transhumanism, transactional sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:55:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27148357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paresse/pseuds/Paresse
Summary: Vex contemplates the offer given to him by the strange High Priest Dorian Proxy. He feels as if he's putting his foot on the trigger of a bear trap. But for the amount of money he's being offered?He can get his leg repaired when it's done...--Vex belongs to @jimmyjimsjim on Twitter! Please go give them love for creating just a delightful little bastard of a character~
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	Shiny Metal Lure

Vex’s arms are crossed in stubborn annoyance. The well-maintained fibreglass sidewalk of the higher classes clicks beneath his heels. Back straight, proud and tall.

Still pissed off.

The money offered wasn’t anything to sneeze at. And the advancements in biosynthology the Code had made weren’t either. But the tech-faith had some… honestly creepy rumors and realities about it. And he has to walk willingly into the nest of it to even hear the full offer.

The Sanctuary of Circuitry sits, a black, brutalistic monolith in a field of bright neon flowers and advertisements. Central to this district known to be totally faithful. He shuffles his coat, relaxing the hunch of his shoulders as he approaches. He’s not going to show any weakness.

Back straight. Proud and tall.

A small synthetic greets him outside the door. Floating in the air before the smooth doors.

“Greetings, honored guest Vex.” Its modulated voice is as high and synthetic as a V-Idol. Overly cheerful static coming from its pyramid head. Over glorified neon wireframe adornments around it and useless decor all on itself, maybe it was a V-Idol before. 

Still, he raises his chin in acknowledgement.

“High Father Dorian is delighted you have accepted the invitation. I am JPEG. Please follow me closely through the Sanctuary.” It sets the tapered tips of its legs to the ground and turns to press a hand to the large doors, prompting them to swing open with a hydraulic hiss. 

The distant bellow of giant mechanics and turning of gears. The faint sounds of the few robots and cyborgs wandering and praying in the main hall, modulated voices speaking in tongues or strange hymns. The background buzz of the large screens displaying the faith’s strange pseudo-scripture. A whale song of nothing but synth-noise.

Sheer walls of black tungsten, neon sprawling across it like circuit-veins. Cords hanging from the high ceiling thicker than his body. A shrine of a mega-computer at the far end, chaotic flashes of code-strings and files spurting across the screens at apparent random.

It makes what’s left of his organic skin crawl, like it didn’t belong. His cybernetics felt at ease, his throat and shoulders relaxing. A combination of safety and danger as the giant doors shut behind him.

He decided he didn’t like this place fairly quickly.

His footfalls sound different on the dark concrete of this floor as he stays behind the small robot, muffled and small in comparison to all else. He’s led off to one side. Part of him is thankful not to have to walk through the worship hall. Another part of morbid curiosity is disappointed.

The next door slides open without a sound. It’s an elevator. JPEG stands to one side of the door and bows to him, “The High Father will greet you at your destination.” It waves him in.

Well, that wasn’t a long guide. He steps in and looks around as the doors slide shut. A slate box with dull pulsing neon. No visible buttons or signs. It takes a moment before he realizes it’s moving.

Downwards.

Closer to the distant sounds. He adjusts his posture.

Back straight. Proud and tall.

He keeps finding himself slumping a little and he’s too stubborn to let it happen even a little. He has a job to do. Everyone and their siblings know the Code has fingers in the unsavory.

Finally it stops, and the sound of coils firing off starting to join the rumbling of noise. The door slides back open and he steps out, eyes falling on a long glass corridor.

It’s an intimidation attempt.

He decides this swiftly and firmly. He keeps his eyes firmly on the door at the end as he walks down the corridor. Outside of the glass, alien-looking tech twists and moves and flashes. A great pulsing machine… That he refuses to look at. He knows how this shit works. Something slithers across his vision out of the corner of his eye and he shoves down the impulse to glance at it. 

The door slides open and he doesn’t even have to break stride as he approaches. He only looks around as he enters the room on the other side. There’s a stark addition of finery and greed that puts him at ease. Greed. He deals with that every day. Silks and cushions arranged around various tech-forms and computers. Draped from the ceiling and braided with cords and struts. The centerpiece is framed by a large glass desk littered with papers and cybernetic parts--LEDs making the surface glitter with data--and an ornate chair of angles and lines becoming of a stained glass window.

“I apologize for the trip.” The man seated in the chair is the centerpiece himself, deep and modulated voice vibrating in tones. Half-lidded eyes alight with red and cyan light, cords and locs tied back in a high ponytail. A cassock covering most of his torso, but leaving his cybernetic shoulders and hands bare. The crease of his face murmurs comfort and kindness to organics, dark skin wrinkling in the right places, eyes just barely squint. But sharp black and red claws folded in his lap argue much different, “But we needed a secure place to discuss this favor, yes?” He raises a clawed hand to tuck a stray loc behind one gauged ear, “Sit or stand, whichever you prefer, Vex.” The casual tone tastes his name like wine.

Oh, he knows that tone. Greed and lust. He knows these emotions. And among the uncanny surroundings, that makes him relaxed. He smiles and bows his head, “Of course, father.” He takes to lounging on one of the cushions. As he sits, the High Father stands and comes around the desk.

“Let’s not beat around the proverbial bush. You’re not here for a sermon.” The sway of the sash around digitigrade cybernetic legs feels as calculated as the rest of the man, “And my favor isn’t for your usual, I assure you...” Though the man’s eyes do shamelessly run over his body, “I’d like to study your augments.”

It does, in fact, catch Vex off guard. He scoffs and laughs, “Then why not talk to my cyberneticist?” He flourishes a hand, “I’m sure he would be much cheaper than me, after all.”

“I’m interested in you, not in him. You’ve become more than prominent in drug circles, it was only a matter of time before you came onto my radar.” He runs a hand over his sash to straighten the material before folding his hands behind his back, “The process will be fairly invasive, thus my offer of much as payment.”

Still that tone remains. Of course, the High Father is a technophile. He crosses one leg over the other, playing hard to get, “I see. I’m a very private person, I don’t like the sound of ‘invasive,’ you know.” He sets a sly hand on his chest as he side-eyes Father Dorian.

“Of course.” Without hesitation, “I can offer protection to you and your business--all branches and forms of it--from calls of heresy from the Code, as well as a supply of Code fragments for you to sell at your leisure among your other drugs.” The priest smiles kindly still, “On top of the other offers I sent through legal communication.”

Vex double takes, “I thought the Code fragments on the market were heretical copies?”

The high father laughs, “Most are, yes. But yours will be sanctioned. You can sell them higher and it will bring the faithful to your doors.”

“...Alright, I’m impressed.” He crosses his arms, “What’s this process? Hook me up to a machine? Take me apart?”

Father Dorian comes closer, “It would be a lie to say no to either, but it’s more involved than both.” He motions to Vex’s clothing, “Would you allow me to see all of your external augments?”

Vex smirks and sits up from his lounged position to shuck the coat off his shoulders. He’s vividly aware of the priest’s eyes on him as he exposes implants and cybernetic limbs. Once he’s bare and far from vulnerable, he spreads his arms out, “All yours, High Father.”

The slight puff of the priest’s chest isn’t missed by him before the man promptly deposits himself in Vex’s lap, a claw tapping against his hip, “All of them.” A smirk dances across his lips. Vex returns with a smirk of his own and the augment clicks open, his cock presenting itself.

“Good boy.”

Vex freezes up at that as the priest slides a claw up the ridged surface of his cock, “Now wait a minute, I don’t-- Fuck!”

The claw presses hard under the head of his cock and traps it between his belly button and the sharp point. Nerve-replacement nodes fire to inform him of damage--in layman’s terms, it fucking hurt.

Father Dorian sits up and leans over his head, locs framing his face. The apertures of the priest’s eyes spun leisurely, “All. Mine. As you said. Don’t forget who’s paying you, Vex.”

A shudder runs through him. A moment of hesitation, then, “Yes, sir.”

Father Dorian grins at that and slowly releases pressure on his cock, claw slowly clicking over each ridge down it before he flicks his finger off, “Very good.” He slides his hands over Vex’s chest, fingers tracing each implant he comes across. Carefully. Slowly. Dragging the sensation across the long seconds before they finally caress the edge of his upper augments. 

Claws play along the sensitive skin at the seam. His back arches a little into the feeling. The priest traces each seam and connection point… before sliding up further to his throat. He takes a shaky breath, “Tease…” He laughs out.

“Be still.” Something clicks on him and his systems inform him that one of his throat platings is being removed. He sucks in a sharp breath. Father Dorian runs a hand down his chest to calm him, “I won’t hurt you.” The assurance sends a tremor through him like accidentally touching a live wire, “I know what I’m doing.”

The other plates come off one by one and he swallows, conscious that Father Dorian can see the artificial organs flex with the motion. But claws dip into the wires and cords with practiced ease. He waits for pain, for a wire to be tugged the wrong way. But as promised, pain never comes. His spinal strut caressed. His wires gently slid along like someone playing with his hair. 

He huffs his impatience, one leg shifting as he tries not to squirm.

“Be still.” Father Dorian repeats himself, “You're being paid to sit still and be examined, not to get your rocks off.” The lilt to those words was just as bad as the sensation of claws manipulating his innards. He bites back a whine and focuses his eye up on the ceiling, searching for some detail to distract him. Fingers slide up under the covering of his jaw, as if his old bones were being caressed from the inside painlessly, and his eye becomes unfocused.

A low hum comes from the priest and he adjusts how he’s sitting. Vex groans. This is going to be torture. Father Dorian finally moves away from his throat and jaw, replacing the plates… and then leaning down to press a kiss where his ear meets metal. Then he moves to his left shoulder, just out of sight for him. The process repeats. Exploring the replacements of nerves and muscles. Sliding along the faux deltoid. Following the paths of wires. 

One wire is taken between a knuckle and the ‘pad’ of Father Dorian’s thumb, gently pinched and tugged. His hand moves against his will and a fuzzy warmth spreads over his plating. A phantom sensation. His cock twitches and nudges against the priest’s lower stomach…

And is ignored.

The delicate, exploratory fingers of the tech-priest don’t seem to ever stop. Sliding between strut and gear, under hydraulics and brushing electricity warmed synth-muscle. On occasion, he rewards Vex with another kiss. Hot breath rolls across what’s left of flesh on him. 

Vex's mind runs in circles; Both under and overstimulated. To the background music of mechanical grinding, slamming, and electricity firing, his mind can wander in short bursts. He ends up thinking about mundane things, someone who owes him money… and is abruptly brought back by a finger dipping into the place where the replacement serratus meets his original ribs.

Vex isn’t sure how much time has actually passed, but it has felt like hours. His mechanics delicately pulled apart and studied by the delicate hands of transhumanism. And the High Father isn’t even to his legs.

Again and again it happens. Soft caressing and gentle exploration to be tuned out followed by sudden overwhelming sensation yanking him back.

But never once does he feel… vulnerable. He’s never afraid of the priest digging those claws in. The gentle way he’s touched… It's almost as if Father Dorian is afraid of hurting him. Delicate, like being allowed to touch a priceless, breakable work of art or something expensive one could never afford, or…or touching a religious artifact. He looks down at the priest. 

This is worship.

Despite the revelation, impatience is a ravenous beast in the back of his metal throat and he squirms. “Vex.” Father Dorian’s voice cuts through the hot metal air, “I thought you were good on your favors. I asked a single thing of you, and you can’t even do that.” Spinning irises of crimson and cyan stare down at him.

“Be still.”

Vex growls low at that, “If I’m so valuable, could you at least get me off? This is torture.” He really tries to make it not sound like a whine.

“Money and drugs aren’t enough for you? Greedy little thing.” Father Dorian taps a claw onto his chest. He hums as he thinks, “Would you rather get off now and I overstimulate you to tears, instead, then?” The last plate of Vex’s chest is clicked back into place, and sharp claw-tips dance across his torso, down to his hip. “Very well. I’m in the area now… So I’ll leave it up to you.” A kiss pressed to the center of his chest.

“Would you rather beg for more or beg me to stop?”

And the High Father waits for a reply, laying on Vex’s chest and looking up at him. He blinks dumbly, shocked by the agreement, the question, and the persistent patience of the priest.

“What kind of question is that?” Vex scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Then you will wait.” Father Dorian decides for him, “Less chance you’ll thrash and hurt yourself.” He sits back up on the cyborg’s lap, “Now hush and let me focus, and I’ll give you what you want.”

And the torment starts anew for Vex as Father Dorian turns around and begins the same process on his legs. The heels and shins aren’t nearly as sensitive as his arms were, and he can focus more himself. Recover, maybe. He runs his hands over his face and lets out a soft sigh. He still twitches here and there because of the sensation. It’s not as bad without Father Dorian’s breath on his neck.

Vex can’t see what Father Dorian’s doing and that makes it so much worse when he gets to his thighs. He doesn’t have time to stifle his gasp or stop his leg from twitching. A jolt runs through him harshly.

Father Dorian sighs, “It’s alright, relax your leg again.”

He shudders and peers down.

“My apologies, I didn’t realize there was such a sensitive sensor bundle here.” In a moment the pain fades as the High Father apologizes and adjusts pulled wires, “I should have warned you.”

Vex grumbles vague forgiveness and runs his hands over his face. This is either the best or worst edging session he’s ever been a part of. Metal claws glide along yet more mechanics. Dipping into quiet recesses only ever touched by his cyberneticist. Not even touched by himself. Places he didn’t know he could feel. It makes sense, being able to feel for internal damage but… 

Father Dorian brushes much closer to Vex’s inner thigh, a gasp coming unbidden from him. Teasingly, the priest rubs back and forth on the spot, turning to peer over his shoulder at the cyborg.

“Beautiful.”

Vex laughs, a heated and distant thing, “Tell me something I don’t know.” He presses his leg into the sensation.

Father Dorian laughs, too, then replaces the leg plating, “Just one more thing. Your hip area. Yes, that means your cock finally gets a turn.” More laughter. He lays a hand on Vex’s cock at last, “You realize I’m going to take it apart too, right?”

“You know, if someone told me this morning that a sentence like that would make me excited, I would have shot them.” Vex breathes out. A click sounds out and the inner mechanics are exposed. He looks down, watching the priest's face. 

The slight parting of Father Dorian's lips, the curious curve of his brow. He's so fascinated with the mechanics it's almost cute. Warmth ripples through nodes as he plays with one. Vex's back arches, "All the Code's knowledge and advancements… how am I something new, hm?"

"New is relative… unique is more like it. Every combination of augments, every string of coding, every turn of a screw or stress on a strut… it's unique." Father Dorian walks two fingers along the sensory web of nodes and watches Vex shudder, "It has nothing to do with advancement or knowledge, and all in appreciation." He slowly rolls his finger around the tip, "Now is just as precious as the coming moments. Now I can appreciate what is before me, a holy form…" His claw flicks away.

Oh, Vex is absolutely reveling in this, gasping at the slight sting of the claw before the plates slide back into place. He watches the priest flourish off the cassock with no hesitation. Father Dorian's body is lined with seams and plates, engravings like ID codes, but scripture instead. Light tattoos on silicone in the shape of circuits and equations. 

Framed by black tungsten augments of his own, the tech-priest shifts and presses himself to the head of Vex's cock. "Tell me, Vex, do you feel holy?"

"Yes, Father."

Father Dorian smiles and lowers himself down with a soft moan. Vex's hands twitch where they are and he hesitates to move them closer. It's slow, maddeningly so. The urge is there. Just grab the Father and slam him into the nest of blankets. Fuck him senseless and spear him on the cock he just called holy. 

But slow does the trick before he can act. He's been on edge for what feels like hours. All it takes is Father Dorian pressing his claws just so against his throat and he's tipped over the edge with what amounts to a small breeze. All the same it hits like a truck.

The priest's soft chuckle is hardly audible over the way his ears ring.

"Very good…" Father Dorian slides off and sighs softly, "Catch your breath."

Vex stares blankly at the other for a second, then lets his head fall back, "What the fuck. Did you even get off?"

"Orgasm was your goal, not mine. I got what I wanted already."

"If you say so…"

There's a comfortable silence as Father Dorian cleans up the both of them. He double checks Vex's systems on a surface level and all seems ready to go. Then the priest returns to his desk.

"I'll have my people reach out to you about the rest of my end of the bargain within a day or two."

Right. 

Just a business transaction. Thank all the hells for that. Vex gets himself up once dressed and nods, "I'll keep my eyes out."

"Good. I'll walk you back upstairs in just a moment." After a few clicks against the screen Father Dorian strode back over, "Just backing up the new data." And with that dismissal, Vex was led out of the heart of the beast. 

After everything, this was almost sudden, rushed. A whiplash. He straightens himself up as they get in the elevator.

"What are you going to use the data for?"

"Not much. More comparison data, a larger pool of examples of augmentations to pull from for hypothesis making and test simulations."

"Do you treat every auged-up person on the planet with a show like this?"

"Oh, absolutely not. I'm far too busy for that. You're very worth the personal indulgence."

"Because I'm hot."

"Well, yes."

The trip up feels much shorter with decent company, and they step out together. At the door, Vex turns to Father Dorian, a sly look on his face, "We should do business more often." He offers, and Father Dorian looks up at him with a contemplating expression.

A black and red claw slides up Vex's shirt and gently grabs his collar to pull him down into the priest's lips. A second after they part, Father Dorian lets go.

"You have nothing more I want."

And with a cruel turn, the shepard descends back into his electric flock, leaving Vex on the threshold.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I had a fantastic time writing this and I'd love to give a massive thank you to @jimmyjimsjim on Twitter for letting me pit my bastard priest against their character Vex. 
> 
> Vex was a blast to write and I'm beyond thrilled to wreck his fucking shit.


End file.
